


Bleed the colours out

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Flashbacks, Gallifrey, Gen, PTSD, The Time War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: What will it take to break you, the Time Lords ask. It doesn’t matter; they’ve already won. If he reveals what it would take they’ll do it in a heartbeat, but if he stays silent they’ll just keep on going until they succeed.
Relationships: The Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Bleed the colours out

**Author's Note:**

> This was a really interesting - if depressing - story to write. I don’t own Doctor Who, please comment/kudos if you can. Enjoy reading!

“What will it take to break you?” they ask at his execution. He does not respond, and at this point he’s foolish enough to think they’re just trying to unsettle him. True, they are, but they will take this threat seriously. Years later, he’ll regret how he scoffed at them, but it doesn’t really matter at the moment. He’ll enjoy the fun for now.

“What will it take to break you?” they ask him, again, and he bursts out laughing; he is the Doctor, and he is _unbreakable_. They scorn his arrogance, and kill him, but he doesn’t care. He’s childish, he’s youthful, and he laughs all the way through his death.

* * *

He’s older, and different. Perhaps it’s the Time War, or maybe it’s just life. The point is, he’s far colder than before. Permanently miserable, wandering the universe without his old joy. A lone soldier - aren’t they meant to come in groups?

Gallifrey needs him, and so does everyone else. It’s tiring. He needs help too, but who cares? He’s the Doctor, and he’s unbreakable. Infallible. Perfect in every respect. He burns a planet, just to see what they will do, and the universe backs away. What happened to the Doctor, they ask. Nothing, he just broke.

The Time Lords keep on coming after him like an ex who thinks he still loves them. They seem confused when he rebuffs him, because why would anyone turn down Gallifrey? They have been holed up on that dusty planet for so long that they have forgotten the rest of the universe.

* * *

The first thing he does after his regeneration is set the Tardis in flight, and he lands in -

World War Two. Bombshells, screams, bullets whistling over the trenches and the unmistakeable smell of rotting flesh. He gags, and tries to block out the flashes of wars fought before, of dying people and debris flying everywhere and so much blood on his hands that it will _never_ be washed off. His hands are covered with dirt from hitting the ground, and the sky is as grey as his thoughts, washed over with exhaustion. In the Time War, everything lost its beauty, its colour, and the world existed in various shades of ash and charred bodies. He’s panicking and feels like he’s about to throw up, overwhelmed by this war torn world. This is what he had tried to run from, and there was no point, no point, none at all -

He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he tastes salt.

* * *

In the aftermath of their incident with Bad Wolf, the Doctor talks to Rose, because looking into the Tardis showed her more of the Doctor’s past than he would have liked. Rose is curious, which is, in this situation, not good. And that’s putting it lightly.

”Back there, you had another way out, didn’t you?” Rose says quietly, cautiously.

”It would’ve killed them all.”

”But they all died anyway, didn’t they? Even Jack...”

”You think I’d... I’d kill them?” he asks, and his voice cracks.

”No. No, you’re the Doctor, and you’d never do something like that,” she says, and she is so sure that the Doctor almost believes her. Almost. He wishes he could be like that, so firm. He wishes he could have the unrelenting certainty of youth.

* * *

In one timeline, he dies, and the universe falls to pieces, bit by bit. In another, the Daleks are destroyed, and Gallifrey restores what he has destroyed. How good that would be, and how unlikely it is. He doesn’t entertain himself with the notion that it could happen; hope won’t help him today.

In a timeline he’s done his best to ignore, Skaro and Gallifrey both burn and he is left to deal with the few Daleks and Time Lords wandering around the universe. It’s not fun, but it is a fair punishment for his arsenal of crimes. In a timeline which is the worst by far, the Earth burns, which is just a nice way of saying _he_ burns it. In that version of reality, he doesn’t stop there, and burns everything in his path - he has lost any moralities he had, crossed the lines that kept him caged until they are invisible. In that world, the Earth is grey and miserable, a sordid reminder of all his mistakes. 

That timeline ends the same way as this one now - sitting in a barn, in front of a box which has a big red button and a conscience.   
  
“So?” she asks, and the Moment giggles, as if she isn’t a killing machine and the Doctor isn’t about to burn up his entire planet.

”What’s so funny?” he asks, and he sees nothing funny about this situation.

”You once said you were unbreakable. Well, you thought it, but I can hear thoughts so what does it matter? It’s just funny ‘cause... well, look at you now. Well and truly _shattered_. What a hypocrite you are, Doctor dear.”

”Don’t call me the Doctor. I haven’t saved a life for years. Instead, I’ve burnt planets, led massacres, manipulated people into taking their own lives just to see if I could. What kind of healer is a mass murderer?” he says, with a rising anger. But he can’t deny the truth of her words - he’s falling to pieces.

”Are you going to do it, then? I know you want to. You want to press the big red button.”

He’s been stalling long enough, and he knows there’s no other way out. Trembling, terrified and loathing himself for everything he’s becoming, everything he’s about to do, he steps forward. He sees the Moment vanish; he’s alone now.

Preparing to rips his hearts out and destroy the Doctor forever, he places his hand on the switch. Funny how such a tiny thing can cause so much destruction.

He presses the button, and reels, overcome by what he has done. The Moment goes off with a tremendous force, hurling him backwards. The world fades to grey, and he watches his final act in the Time War bleed the colours out.

* * *

His second act after regenerating is an act of violence. He is so sick of this face, this body, this life, yet he has only just started. Somehow, he finds the energy to go walking around the Tardis in a desperate fervour, filled with a brief sense of purpose. Cracks and crunches fill the air as he smashes all the reflective surfaces in the Tardis. This way, he’ll never have to look at his face again.

Reaching the last one, he pauses. In a moment of self-hatred and loathing, he has destroyed every mirror on the Tardis. But no, it was necessary. Necessary to put an end to the disgust he feels looking at himself, just as it was necessary to end the Time War -

Driving his fist into the mirror, he watches with satisfaction as it splinters again and again and again, fissures sneaking across it until it is broken beyond repair. He collapses against the wall, finally done, and sees fragments of glass on the floor, everywhere. Only then does he look at his fist, seeing the hundreds of tiny cuts crisscrossing it and the blood staining his carpet. Before he knows it he’s flooded with flashbacks to that moment, the day he pressed that cursed button.

He’s sobbing and he’s screaming and his head’s in his hands, the blood from his injuries spreading all over his face. He’s a mess and he knows it, the man who was once the Doctor buried under grief and fury and a burning pain that he can’t put out. The Doctor he once knew broke into a million pieces and never came back, destroyed in one simple act.

And _oh_ , how the mighty have fallen.


End file.
